He let the brush fall, watching it roll across the desk, and allowed himself to collapse backward.
The dull thud of his spine striking the cold wooden floor was the only thing that anchored him to reality.
There, staring at the ceiling, swallowed in shadow, Kang-dae understood something with brutal clarity:
He could no longer write the truth.
Because the truth would destroy him—
and the woman he had just kissed.
While Haneul cleaned the small corner of the office her father had assigned to her, her movements were mechanical.
Her mind, however, was miles away.
Each time she closed her eyes, she felt again the electric brush of the young Bujang's lips against hers again. She could not believe such a thing had happened in the heart of the observatory.
An involuntary smile illuminated her face as she dusted the shelves, lost in a private reverie.
Her father, watching from behind his desk, noticed immediately the unfamiliar lightness in her expression.
Suddenly—
A sharp clatter shattered the quiet.
The meok slipped from her hands and struck the floor.
"Are you well, my daughter?" her father asked, rising at once.
"I'm sorry, Father!" she exclaimed, startled.
"Why are you so distracted today?" he pressed, stepping closer.
Haneul crouched quickly to retrieve the ink stick, hiding the blush that burned across her cheeks.
"I didn't see it… it was nothing," she murmured.
The old man crossed his arms. He knew her silences too well.
"Since the young Bujang arrived in this house, you have been… unsettled. Is there something I should know?"
She waved her hands too quickly.
"No! It's just the dust. Everything is out of place. The hanji, the sagos—this room is a mess. You must be more careful, Father. Knowledge cannot thrive in disorder."
"Are you certain that is all?" he asked, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.
He said nothing more.
He simply left her alone—with her thoughts.
In his own quarters, Kang-dae's atmosphere was far darker.
The door opened. A soldier entered and bowed deeply.
Without hesitation, Kang-dae handed him a sealed note.
"Deliver this to Lord Min immediately."
His voice was ice.
The soldier took the message addressed to the most dangerous man in the palace—and left swiftly.
The King's condition worsened with every sunrise.
Within the sealed corridors of the palace, whispers festered like an infection. The air itself seemed poisoned with fear. Meanwhile, Lord Min devoured political territory like a starving predator, gathering allies through ambition or terror.
Rumors spread beyond palace walls.
They spoke of a fatal anomaly hidden within the strokes of the Cheonsang Yeolcha Bunya Jido.
For the scholars, the implication was devastating.
The imbalance in the heavens was not a miscalculation—it was punishment.
The sky reflected the loss of virtue in the throne and the corruption festering within the court.
While some pledged themselves to Min's cause, others remained loyal to the crown in quiet resistance.
But Min had already spun his web.
His final move was prepared:
Seize control of the Cheomseongdae.
Remove Haneul's father.
When Kang-dae's soldier delivered the message, Min read it alone.
His expression tightened.
"Summon my specter," he ordered calmly. "Tonight. The usual place."
Under a sky without mercy, in an abandoned village swallowed by shadow, they met.
Min entered the broken house with his face half concealed, moonlight filtering through the fractured roof like divine judgment.
The man in the blue silk scarf waited in silence.
"Today I received word from the observatory," Min began softly. "Everything is… calm."
His tone sharpened.
"The report was brief. Concise. Suspiciously empty."
He turned slowly.
"It mentions nothing about who truly drafts the maps."
The guard stiffened.
"You assured me it was the girl."
Min stepped closer, his gaze merciless.
"If you are correct—bring me proof."
His voice dropped lower.
"Physical proof."
"If your suspicions are fantasies… it will be your head that pays for wasting my time."
He walked toward the doorway, then paused.
Without turning, he delivered his final sentence:
"The clock has already begun."
Min disappeared into the night, leaving the specter alone beneath fractured moonlight.
The mission was clear:
Infiltrate.
Confirm.
Destroy.
The hunt was no longer Kang-dae's alone.
Two shadows now stalked Haneul's secret.
And the web was tightening.